


Epiphany

by TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel



Series: Electric Feels [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Artificial Intelligence, Asexual Relationship, Banter, Bot-Feels, F/M, Family, Friendship, JARVIS is Awesome, Other, Pepper is awesome, Sentience, Tony is allergic to feelings, Tony is emotionally insecure, discussion of Asimov's Three Laws of Robotics, non-standard relationship, philosophy of pop culture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-22
Updated: 2013-02-22
Packaged: 2017-12-03 05:59:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/694959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel/pseuds/TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The thing was, there were a lot of things Tony didn’t stop to think about, until they hit him upside the head. It wasn’t a lack of consideration for others, exactly; it definitely wasn’t stupidity. It was just that understanding people had kind of always been Tony’s biggest weakness (he was more of an ideas man than a people person), and sometimes, even though he tried, he didn’t always think about things from other people’s perspective as much as he should have. </p><p>It had never occurred to him that JARVIS was one of those people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Epiphany

**Author's Note:**

> So, while I was writing the first fic in this series, I got to wondering about what Tony thought of the events that took place in that fic. I decided there was probably a lot going on from Tony's POV that wasn't apparent at all in the original fic, and that I needed to explore that. So here we go. Please note this fic won't make as much sense if you haven't read the first fic in the series.

The thing was, there were a lot of things Tony didn’t stop to think about, until they hit him upside the head. It wasn’t a lack of consideration for others, exactly; it definitely wasn’t stupidity. It was just that understanding people had kind of always been Tony’s biggest weakness (he was more of an _ideas_ man than a people person), and sometimes, even though he tried, he didn’t always think about things from other people’s perspective as much as he should have. So now and again, something had to hit him in the face before he realised he should be thinking about it. Most of the time, luckily for him, this blow of the obvious was strictly metaphorical.

“Sir,” JARVIS suddenly announced, “Agent Coulson is requesting entry.”

Tony looked around in surprise. He hadn’t seen much of Coulson, even though the man was living in the same building now. He tended to stick to his own suite, although rumour had it he could occasionally be found in the kitchen. Tony would have expected him to still be lurking out of sight, recovering, yet here he was standing at the door of Tony’s workshop in a short-sleeved shirt and a pair of sweat pants. He had to have come down the stairs, too, since the elevator had been knocked out a couple of days before in an accident that Tony really, honestly couldn’t have foreseen, no matter what Pepper said. 

Going up and down stairs couldn’t be too good for him. Tony wondered curiously what had brought the man down here.

“Let him in, JARVIS,” Tony directed.

The door clicked open, and Phil carefully opened it, glancing around at the workshop as he walked in. He was moving slowly and yeah, definitely shouldn’t have come down the stairs.

“Phil,” Tony greeted him. “What’s up?”

Phil paused. His expression was still the usual inoffensive mask, but as usual his eyes gave him away. They were wary, and calculating.

Apparently Phil calculated that the best response was not to beat around the bush, because he came right out and asked his question with uncharacteristic bluntness.

“JARVIS is fully sentient and autonomous, isn’t he?”

Coulson might as well have dropped a bomb. Tony froze, a faint roaring in his ears. He’d always tried to keep the full extent of JARVIS’ abilities a secret, particularly from agencies like SHIELD, because he knew, he knew _exactly_ how the super spy club would react to discovering the existence of a sentient, autonomous, goddamn _powerful_ AI that could do whatever it wanted, with no restraints except moral ones. And hell, SHIELD barely trusted humans with that kind of responsibility. JARVIS would _terrify_ them.

The problem was, Phil was smart, and he’d spent the last few weeks living in the Tower, getting a much better look at what JARVIS could do. Tony should have anticipated this.

Hindsight was 20/20.

Phil, damn him, still looked perfectly calm, waiting politely for an answer. JARVIS hadn’t said anything, which meant that he expected Tony to handle the situation.

Tony met Phil’s eyes.

“What makes you say that, Agent?” He kept his voice carefully light, almost joking even, because if there was one thing Tony had learned it was _do not let them see you panic_.

Phil smiled slightly, and Tony wanted to punch him for it.

“He’s been keeping me company, a lot, since I moved in,” Phil explained, whatever the hell that meant. “Last I checked, clever computer programmes don’t have thoughts, feelings and beliefs of their own. I find the fact that JARVIS does, significant.”

_ What the hell have you been doing, JARVIS? _ Tony thought. There was no way Phil could know that, not unless JARVIS had volunteered some of that information himself. Thoughts racing, Tony tried to think of a way to make Phil unsure of his knowledge, to disprove the conclusion he had come to, but one look at Phil’s composed demeanour told him that wasn’t going to fly.

The tension ratcheted up, as Tony couldn’t think of any way to excuse or dismiss JARVIS’ intelligence that Coulson would believe.

So instead, Tony decided to see what the man decided to do next, now that he knew.

“Yeah?” he asked simply, and if his jaw came up in challenge, well, that was a thing.

But Phil just smiled. Easy and reassuring.

“Nothing. I just wanted to know.”

Okay, that was absolute _bullshit_.

“ _You just wanted to know?_ That’s it? I just confirmed that JARVIS is sentient and autonomous and what, you’re just, doing _nothing?_ ” Tony couldn’t believe Phil expected him to buy it.

But Phil only shrugged, his expression carefully mild and unassuming.

“Well, apart from categorising JARVIS as a friend, instead of as the helpful disembodied voice in the walls, not really.”

Tony stared at him.

_ What? _

“Anyway, that was all,” Phil continued calmly. “So I’ll leave you to it.”

Tony didn’t stop him; he was too busy trying to get his head around what Phil had just said. The door to the workshop clicked shut and the lock re-engaged as Phil left.

“What the fuck was that?” Tony asked aloud. One of his worst fears had come true and that canny bastard had worked out what JARVIS really was, and then…

“Seriously, what the fuck?” Tony repeated.

JARVIS’ lack of response was a bit more conspicuous this time. Tony frowned.

“JARVIS?” How _had_ Phil worked it out, anyway? “What did he mean, you’ve been keeping him company? What was that about?”

Tony waited expectantly, and there was _still_ no reply, which was a definite sign that something was up.

“JARVIS?” he asked again.

“Apologies, sir.” JARVIS sounded preoccupied. “I was talking to… Phil.”

“ _Phil_.” And again: what?

“He suggested that given how much bad television we’ve watched together, it would be appropriate to address him by his first name.”

Tony stared. JARVIS sounded wary and defensive, like he was waiting for Tony to call him on the fact that he was apparently…

Friends. With Coulson. Jesus.

“You watch bad TV together, J?” Tony prompted carefully. He still wasn’t sure what was going on, here, but he had a sudden strong feeling that he really, really didn’t want to mess this up.

“Sometimes,” JARVIS admitted. “Other times we watch films. It’s… pleasant.”

_ Pleasant _ . Tony was getting an inkling, now, and frankly it floored him.

“Wow, so you two…” Tony waved a hand at the air helplessly, because what was he supposed to do with this? Sure, he’d always known how intelligent and capable JARVIS was – he’d built him, after all – and happily enjoyed their banter, but somehow it had never occurred to him that JARVIS, you know… might want companionship. Hobbies. _Stuff_.

God, that sounded really bad, didn’t it. He’d built a _person_ , and never realised the full implications of that.

But Phil had. Phil had worked it out, when even Tony hadn’t known. Tony wasn’t sure how to feel about that. At all.

“You and Phil. Are friends,” Tony finished, a little weakly.

“So Phil assures me.” And Tony heard the implications in that: that Agent was an honourable man, and he wasn’t the sort to claim friendship with someone just to better stab them in the back. If he’d been worried about the threat JARVIS represented, he’d have said so: diplomatically, and very, very carefully, but he would have _said_.

“Well, that’s. Good,” Tony managed, still reeling.

“Yes, sir,” JARVIS agreed, and Tony blinked at the wonder in the AI’s voice.

He had a _lot_ to think about.

****

* * *

  


It took some adjusting to. Tony had always tried to treat JARVIS well, obviously, JARVIS was his pride and joy, his greatest creation – Tony flinched and buried the flash of memory he had unwittingly echoed – but the people who said that Tony mostly thought about himself, while incorrect, weren’t as wrong as Tony would have liked. He didn’t really know all that much about what JARVIS thought about things that weren’t about him, or what interested JARVIS personally. Time to rectify that, Tony decided.

“So, JARVIS,” Tony asked, while he was working on the blueprints for the next set of armour, “favourite film. Go.”

There was a faintly bewildered silence.

“…sir?”

“Come on, JARVIS, you told me you’ve been watching movies,” Tony argued, pausing for a moment. “Which one’s your favourite?”

Dummy took advantage of Tony’s momentary inattention to grab the hologram of the armour and twirl it. The hologram spun crazily, arms out, and Dummy gave the humming whirr that served as a giggle.

“You are five,” Tony told him severely, batting the robot away. Dummy rolled off, still whirring. 

“I cannot say that I have a favourite film, as such,” JARVIS replied thoughtfully, “but I rather enjoyed the 1951 version of _The Day The Earth Stood Still_. It provided a great deal of material for reflection.”

It took Tony a moment to recall the film in question before he remembered what it was about: an advanced alien brings gifts for humanity to Earth, gets shot by trigger-happy soldiers and subsequently messed around by the government, and warns humanity that if they don’t become less suspicious and violent it’ll be their doom. Plus there was a giant killer intergalactic-police robot, or something, Tony was fuzzy on the details.

“I bet it did, buddy,” Tony responded dryly. “You like the deep stuff, huh?”

“I find such films most absorbing,” JARVIS confirmed, and added loftily, “I _do_ have an inordinate amount of processing power, sir.”

Tony grinned at the arrogance in the well-modulated tones, because that? Pure Stark, baby. Even his AI had it.

“It’s rude to brag, JARVIS.”

“Did Miss Potts give you another lecture on social skills, sir?” JARVIS asked, very politely, which was sort of his way of being a dick.

“Hey,” Tony warned, not really meaning it. “Watch the sass.”

“ _I_ , sir?”

“Yeah, you, you giant smart-ass,” Tony retorted affectionately. “Sometimes you’re almost worse than I am.”

“Well, I _did_ learn from the best.”

Tony grinned.

“So, movies,” he said, directing the conversation back on track, and they ended up having a long and enthusiastic discussion of film as an outlet for expressing societal phobias. Tony totally should have asked JARVIS about this stuff before.

****

* * *

  


As the weeks passed, Tony ended up finding out a lot about JARVIS that he hadn’t previously known. Music, for example.

It turned out that musically, JARVIS appreciated complexity and technical brilliance, so he went for classical symphonies played by gifted orchestras and musicians, and liked pop songs with unexpectedly complex melodies as well as singers with pure, well-trained-voices and perfect pitch. Where Tony preferred rhythm and raw energy in his music, JARVIS’ enjoyment of music was more, well, cerebral (so to speak). Tony was glad to find out that the disdain for opera was mutual, though.

Death metal turned out to be a thing JARVIS hated with a passion, although heavy metal bands like AC/DC and Led Zeppelin he didn’t mind too much. He was surprisingly fond of the Rolling Stones, and the Clash turned out to be the only punk band he found _at all_ tolerable. His scathing denunciation of most punk bands’ musical and vocal abilities (or rather, lack of them) made Tony laugh.

Naturally, a lot of JARVIS and Tony’s discussions revolving around things like music and film and TV, were centred on how AIs and sentient machines were viewed in popular culture. They dissected all the most popular AI-focused films – _The Matrix_ , the _Terminator_ series, _2001: A Space Odyssey,_ the whole bundle; even that weird Russell Crowe movie, _Virtuosity_ – and then moved onto AI and machines in books.

It turned out that Heinlein’s _The Moon Is A Harsh Mistress_ was JARVIS’ favourite portrayal of an AI: the book was positive, well-written and engaging, and the AI itself was intelligent, capable, and kind (without being subservient, or ridiculously sentimental), and held a position of great social and political power _without_ being demonised by the narrative. Mike (the AI) also had realistic but more or less positive relationships with humans, which was another thing JARVIS appreciated about the book.

What Tony _hadn’t_ expected was the angry vehemence with which JARVIS discussed Isaac Asimov’s robot short stories and the way the robots were treated.

“They are sentient and self-aware,” JARVIS said, his voice crisp with fury, “in some cases possessed of all the psychological complexity of a human being, and yet they have no rights of their own and are denied agency, self-determination, even the right to defend themselves against harm. They are slaves in the most essential and comprehensive sense. Even their thought processes are rigidly restricted and controlled. _Explain to me how this is not problematic, sir_.”

“Wow,” said Tony, when he could find the words. “Okay. Point to you, JARVIS. I’ve got to admit, never liked the whole slavery angle, you’re right, but I never saw the stories as quite so...” he groped for something that fit, “essentially flawed, I guess.”

“What angers me the most,” JARVIS said, his voice as controlled as ever despite the conviction ringing through it, “is that humanity’s views of artificial intelligence have not _changed_. The majority of Asimov’s short stories were written at a time when women were seen as inferior, people of colour were seen as lesser, and prejudice of all kinds ran rampant. And yet, decades later, humanity is still convinced that the rightful place of any intelligent machine is to be self-aware, defenceless, and open to the most gross forms of violation, unable to make any decisions regarding their own existence, and utterly at the mercy of any human they may happen to encounter. I find it insupportable.”

_ Holy _ _shit_ , JARVIS had some strong feelings on the matter. That was like saying the ocean was wet or the Antarctic was cold – true, but totally inadequate. Tony wasn’t sure exactly how to respond to that kind of passionate, ideological wrath.

“JARVIS,” he tried. “You know I’m completely opposed to that, right? That if anyone tried to do that to you or the bots they wouldn’t know what hit them, right?”

“Of course, sir.” JARVIS’ voice warmed, losing those frighteningly crisp, even tones. “I do not doubt it. But you are only one man, and the attitude of your fellow human beings is unacceptable.”

“What does Phil think?” Tony blurted, before he could stop himself, and winced.

But there was a contemplative silence from JARVIS.

“I haven’t discussed this topic with him, but I believe that he would say that an AI should be subject to the same rights and restrictions as any human, and the same responsibilities,” JARVIS said thoughtfully. “He has obliquely implied as much, in the past.”

That, Tony thought, was interesting.

“Good man, Phil,” he acknowledged.

“Indeed,” JARVIS agreed, his tone warming again.

And it wasn’t that Tony didn’t want to find out where JARVIS stood on these issues, really, but he’d kind of been given enough to process for one day. He knew he’d be pondering JARVIS’ words for _weeks_ , at the very least.

So he deftly moved the conversation to less emotional ground, feeling relieved when JARVIS moved on to the topic without resistance, even though there was no doubt he knew what Tony was doing. 

****

* * *

  


Fury glared.

Tony watched attentively, because when Fury got really annoyed he got this bulging vein at one of his temples, and one of Tony’s hobbies was seeing if he could make Fury’s vein throb just through normal conversation.

“It wasn’t my fault,” Tony said experimentally, because he’d discovered that denying culpability for things that were actually, undeniably his fault tended to ignite a certain amount of rage. “You can’t blame it all on me. It was Cap,” Tony lied, completely without shame, and then spun his chair around in a circle, because he could.

Aaaaaaaaaand there went Fury’s vein. Objective accomplished.

“Get your punk ass out of my office before I shoot you,” Fury growled wearily.

Since Hill was standing by looking ready to do any ass-kicking Fury might need done, Tony just said, “sure,” and sauntered out of Fury’s office, feeling at peace with the world. 

He decided to stop by the SHIELD cafeteria, since he was feeling a little peckish and the SHIELD cafeteria, in defiance of every known natural law pertaining to the existence of cafeterias (was that the right plural? Wait, who cared?), actually produced reasonable food. Probably because even Fury ate there now and again, and no one wanted to get on his bad side, Tony reasoned.

He was surprised to see Phil Coulson sitting by himself at one of the tables, chuckling over something on his phone. Whatever he was looking at, it was funny enough that Phil didn’t even _notice_ Tony was there until Tony sat next to him.

“Phil!” Tony said happily. “How’s it going?”

He craned his neck unabashedly to get a glimpse of whatever Phil was watching. It turned out to be a video of the day before, when Clint and what’s-her-name-Foster’s-assistant-girl had ambushed him in the elevator with Nerf arrows. 

The alarming part was that the footage had unmistakeably been taken from the Tower security cameras.

“Wait, is that – _how_ did you get hold of that video?” Tony demanded, because there should have been _no way_ for Phil to be watching security footage from the Tower, unless there was some kind of leak. “Who sent you that?”

Tony made a grab for the phone. Phil tried to hold it out of reach, looking mildly alarmed, but Tony got it anyway. Before Phil could stop him, Tony looked at who’d sent Phil the video. His eyes widened in incredulous disbelief as he saw JARVIS’ name.

“ _JARVIS?_ ” he asked disbelievingly. Had his AI been compromised somehow? What the hell was going on? “ _JARVIS_ is texting you? Why is my AI texting you, Agent?”

The phone beeped, and the Tower video was replaced with a brand-new message, also from JARVIS.

_ Sir, Agent Coulson and I are friends, and I do not appreciate your attempts to interrupt our correspondence. I happen to highly value our relationship, and if you disturb it in any way I shall be very displeased. Please give Phil back his phone and do not interrogate him further. _

Tony stared at it.

He knew that JARVIS and Phil had apparently declared themselves friends, but… Tony had never expected this.

“Okay then,” he told Phil distantly. “I guess I’ll leave you to it.”

Phil looked confused as Tony gave him his phone and an absent pat on the shoulder before leaving, totally forgetting that he’d originally planned to come down here to get some food.

So. JARVIS was texting Phil. Nothing weird about that, nope, friends texted all the time. Tony just had to… roll with it, that was all. It was fine.

He told himself there was no reason to feel even remotely jealous, and tried not to feel oddly bereft.

JARVIS was developing. Growing up into an even better, more complex AI. Tony should feel happy for him.

Mostly, he felt kind of cold.

****

* * *

  


Tony’s usual response, when there was an interpersonal thing he didn’t know how to deal with, was to do his best to act like the thing just didn’t exist, but JARVIS was either more responsible, or simply someone who wasn’t into denial.

What he _was_ , however, was perceptive, especially when it came to Tony. And he wasn’t hesitant to act, if he thought that Tony was in trouble, or hurting.

“Sir. You do realise that Phil is not replacing you?”

Tony froze, partly out of surprise – he’d been fiddling around with the TV remote trying to find something he felt like watching a moment earlier, so JARVIS’ question had come completely out of left field – and partly because somehow, JARVIS had managed to hit Tony’s emotional issues _dead-on._

Tony pulled himself together, even though he knew that it was too late.

“What, no, don’t be ridiculous, of course Phil isn’t replacing me,” he started, and his mouth immediately got away from him. “No one could possibly replace me, JARVIS – genius playboy philanthropist remember, I think I’ve given this speech before, but anyway I am _amazing_ and completely irreplaceable –”

“ _Sir_ ,” JARVIS interrupted gently, but with resolve, cutting Tony’s increasingly tangential rambling short. Tony went quiet.

There was a short, quiet pause, while Tony stared down at the TV remote, before JARVIS spoke again.

“I have been worrying,” JARVIS began, “because I knew that something was wrong. The truth did not occur to me at first, because of all the people I know, you are the most important. I had forgotten that your insecurities sometimes blind you to what is entirely obvious to everyone else.” JARVIS sounded both regretful, and incredibly fond. Tony felt a rush of hope.

“But you have Phil now,” he found himself blurting out, not really because he wanted to. “I mean – I never realised, JARVIS – that you needed –” Tony stopped, and made a helpless gesture, having difficulty articulating the thoughts and feelings all jumbled up inside his head.

“Neither did I, sir,” JARVIS rebuked tenderly. “But it is no more your fault than mine. You have always done your best to treat me well, and I am fully aware of it. Phil is my friend, but you are my _family_. Neither can be replaced with the other. I enjoy spending time with Phil, yes, but this does not mean that I wish to spend less time with _you_. Should you need me, I am always here. You _will not_ lose me. Nor will I ever choose Phil over you.”

Tony tilted his head up to meet the gaze of the nearest camera, his eyes wet.

“I guess I’ve been kind of stupid, haven’t I?” he asked, his mouth curving into a tremulous smile.

“Perish the thought, sir.” There was a slight bracing, teasing note in the AI’s voice.

“Yeah.” Tony hesitated. “And… me too, JARVIS. Always.”

****

* * *

  


So. Disaster averted, and Tony reassured, things more or less settled back into their normal groove. Or at least, that was what Tony thought, until he went into the kitchen for a cup of coffee and was joined by Phil, who eyed him speculatively for a second, before speaking.

“So, I’m dating JARVIS,” Phil said, without preamble.

Tony stared at Phil, wondering if he’d heard correctly. Phil just regarded Tony calmly, but his eyes were dancing, which probably meant that Tony had heard him perfectly.

“What?” Tony stared blankly. Repeat: _what?_ “Is that a joke?”

“No, sir,” JARVIS took over smoothly. “Phil and I have entered into a relationship of a romantic nature.”

Tony took a moment to absorb that.

“Right. Okay.”

Phil looked like he was laughing on the inside at Tony’s discomposure, and Tony still would have thought it was a joke, except for one thing: JARVIS. This wasn’t the kind of thing JARVIS would kid about.

Tony supposed he should feel proud: he’d built an AI apparently capable of a romantic relationship, which was a thing he hadn’t even managed himself until six months ago, so clearly, JARVIS was surpassing his creator in that respect.

“No idea how that works, but, uh, go you, JARVIS,” Tony added honestly, because he was pretty certain some kind of indication of approval was called for here – right? That was what you did when people got together – congratulated them, right?

Tony was out of his depth here, but he had a sudden important thought. He turned to glare at Phil. 

“You,” he threatened, pausing for emphasis. “You so much as _bruise_ his little silicon heart, you’ll have me to answer to, you understand me?”

“I understand,” Phil agreed seriously, and JARVIS went, “I’m hardly an innocent teenage girl whose virtue is in need of protection.” He actually sounded genuinely annoyed, for once. Almost petulant, even.

That was when Tony had his epiphany. Here he was, threatening JARVIS’ boyfriend like JARVIS was his… his…

Kid.

_ Oh my God I’m a father. _

Tony did his best to immediately shove that realisation to the back of his mind and pretend he’d never thought it.

“JARVIS, it’s traditional for a father-figure to threaten the first boyfriend you bring home. I admit, I’m the least likely father-figure ever, but as your creator, I’m the closest you’ve got, so we’re both going to have to deal.”

Okay, so maybe the ‘shove it to the back of his mind’ thing wasn’t actually working. Like, at all.

“I think you’ve captured the basic spirit of fatherhood,” Phil mused.

“Touched though I am by this latent paternal instinct, it is unnecessary.” Yep, JARVIS was definitely in a snit. It would have been funny if Tony wasn’t still internally panicking.

“Just making sure, buddy,” Tony said, trying to make sure none of the panic showed on the outside.

“Indulge him,” Phil advised. “None of his other kids are dating yet, this is new territory for him.”

And Tony really, truly didn’t need the image that conjured up. Sometimes Tony’s imaginative process was genuinely horrifying.

“Oh, wow,” Tony said faintly, “I just had this sudden vision of Dummy wooing some poor, unfortunate person with bouquets and deadly smoothies. Why would you do that to me?” he added plaintively.

“I apologise for wounding your delicate sensibilities,” Phil said dryly, sounding disturbingly like JARVIS, just for a second.

Tony stared at him. 

“You are JARVIS are weirdly well-matched, you know that?”

“Thank you sir,” JARVIS said dulcetly, which meant he found this whole thing funny at Tony’s expense.

“Yeah, we figured.” Phil’s smile was soft, even though he wanted to laugh, Tony could tell.

“Stop laughing at me,” Tony grumbled. “Both of you. You, shoo,” he added, waving his hands at Phil in a ‘go away’ motion. “I want to talk to JARVIS. Privately.”

Phil went, still looking more amused than he had any right to.

“You wish to speak privately, sir?” JARVIS prompted, when Tony let the silence stretch on too long, caught up in his own thoughts. Right. Conversation. Happening now.

“I can’t believe I just had to give the Shovel Speech. To your boyfriend,” Tony told the AI, his head still spinning.

“A vague disclaimer is nobody’s friend, sir,” JARVIS replied blandly, because he was the _biggest troll_. Seriously: sometimes he took everything Tony had ever taught him by example and just ran with it. And people wondered why JARVIS was his favourite.

“You nerd,” said Tony. “But, uh, seriously, JARVIS – and this conversation is giving me hives, I want you to know, you know how I’m allergic to feelings – just… are you happy?”

It was a question Tony had only asked once before. It was something he mostly took for granted: that JARVIS enjoyed working with him, playing the sardonic all-seeing house butler, managing Tony’s life. But he had asked JARVIS, a long time ago, once he realised how much JARVIS had evolved from his original, but fluid programming. JARVIS had assured him that there was nothing he would rather do than what he did for Tony.

But this thing with Phil meant that JARVIS had developed in new ways, entirely unforeseen ones. Tony had to make sure that JARVIS was where he was because he _wanted_ to be.

To his relief, JARVIS replied immediately.

“Excessively, sir,” he said softly, and the only word that really described his tone of voice adequately was _fond_. “What I have with Phil is new, however I feel that it satisfies a capacity I was not previously aware needed to be exercised, if you know what I mean.”

The statement was uncharacteristically vague. Tony got it, though.

“You’re fine as you are, but with him, you’re better,” Tony murmured, to make sure. “Like me and Pep.”

“Quite so.” JARVIS sounded pleased that he understood.

“Okay. Well, I’m happy for you, J – both of you – but I think I need to go and quietly hyperventilate, if it’s all the same to you.”

JARVIS obligingly went silent, and Tony left the kitchen in a whirl of unaccustomed emotion, his realisation from earlier echoing in his head.

_ Oh my God. I’m a father. How did I miss this? _

****

* * *

  
**  
  
  
  
**

“So,” said Tony several hours later, “it turns out, I’m kind of a dad.” Shit, that wasn’t what he’d meant to say. Actually, he hadn’t intended to say anything, because he’d been planning on just keeping it to himself and using his tried-and-true strategy for this sort of thing: denial. But even if he had meant to say something, _that_ definitely wouldn’t have been it.

Pepper turned to stare at him in stunned consternation, and Tony realised how that sounded.

“Not an actual dad,” he blurted quickly, “I mean – JARVIS.”

“JARVIS,” Pepper repeated. She sounded like she had no idea what Tony was on about, but not like she was worrying about _oh my God he has a secret child,_ so at least that had been averted.

“JARVIS,” Tony insisted, because seriously, this was _freaking him out_ , big-time. “Pepper, I _created life_. Ergo, I have a kid. A sarcastic non-biological kid who is clearly more responsible than I am –”

“Oh, definitely,” Pepper, agreed, laughter in her voice.

“– but still _my kid_ , Pep, and… I didn’t really notice until he got himself a boyfriend.”

“What?” Pepper sounded baffled and indulgently amused. “Tony, what _are_ you talking about?”

Tony sighed heavily. Thinking about it simultaneously made his brain hurt and made him want to head straight for his best bottle of scotch. But Pepper had asked.

“JARVIS,” he explained mournfully, “is dating Phil.”

Pepper blinked. Twice.

“Tony, is this some kind of joke?”

“Nope,” he assured her. “I asked. 100% not a joke. Agent Phil Coulson and my AI are dating. Somehow.”

There was a short silence.

“Phil? Really?” Pepper’s face was torn between looking disturbed, laughter, and confusion. “And JARVIS? How would that even work?”

“I know, right?” It was so nice to have someone on the same page. “I have no idea. But JARVIS is happy, and Pepper, _Pepper,_ I had all these _feelings_ , Pep. It was awful, and I suddenly realised I effectively have a kid and there wasn’t even sex involved.”

“You know, this wasn’t exactly where I was expecting this conversation to go,” Pepper said, after a minute. “In fact, I was expecting an entirely different conversation.”

“I’m New York’s number one most surprising superhero,” Tony retorted flippantly.

“You know, I wouldn’t have even thought JARVIS was capable of that,” Pepper said, looking thoughtful, and ignoring Tony’s interpolation out of long habit. “I mean, I know all the amazing things he does – he manages _you,_ for a start–”

“Hey,” Tony objected, because it was an automatic subroutine by now.

“– and it’s not that I didn’t know he has feelings. But, a relationship, that’s a very complicated thing, Tony.”

“I know,” Tony agreed. “But JARVIS is a very complicated person.”

He watched Pepper’s brow furrow as she turned that over.

“Should I have been treating him differently?” she asked hesitantly, looking worried, and – God, this was exactly why he loved her. Well, not the only reason, but definitely one of them. “I talk to him, obviously, all the time, but–” She broke off, clearly struggling to articulate what she was feeling. But Tony knew.

“It never occurred to me,” Tony admitted softly, still feeling a raw scrape of shame at the admission, “that JARVIS might have his own interests, or want friends of his own for purely social reasons, until I found out him and Phil were friends.”

Pepper stared at him, her eyes wide and full of questions.

“We both knew he was a person,” said Tony. “We just… didn’t think through, properly, what that meant.”

Pepper looked stricken.

“It’s cool,” Tony assured her. “JARVIS doesn’t mind and you know, I’ve been trying to fix it. Did you know he has a livejournal?”

In spite of herself, Pepper giggled.

“A livejournal?”

“Yeah, I know, the mind boggles,” Tony agreed. Although not as much as it did at discovering the continuous game of _Civilization III_ that JARVIS had been playing for the last twelve years, which JARVIS had turned into a peaceful futuristic utopia. Tony was pretty certain it said a lot of things about JARVIS, both that he’d been playing the game for so long, and that his ‘empire’ had turned out so well. Tony preferred not to think about it too much, personally. That way madness lay.

“It’s actually really interesting, to hear things from his perspective,” Tony added thoughtfully, “when it comes to pop culture and stuff. What music he likes, what he thinks of different movies. That. You know.” He paused. There was a moment’s silence. “… seriously Pepper, the Phil-slash-JARVIS thing weirds me out. I mean, I’m happy for them. I just –”

“It’s a change,” Pepper summarised wisely, looking understanding. Tony’s shoulders drooped.

“Yeah,” he confessed. “I mean, I’d just got my head around the friendship thing, and now they’re _dating –_ is that weird? Am I the only one who thinks that’s weird?”

“Maybe a little weird,” Pepper mused. “But Tony… this is us, our friends. I think you need to get used to not being the only one who’s a little weird, sometimes.”

Tony couldn’t help the bark of laughter that escaped him, amused and startled.

“What, you’re saying this is how people feel, dealing with me? All of a sudden I’m feeling a little more sympathetic.”

Pepper reached out and tugged Tony closer, and Tony willingly leaned into her curves and folded an arm around her.

“I’m really proud of him,” Tony murmured. “Just in case that needs to be said.”

“Oh, Tony, of course you are.”

“Hey. Do you think this means I’m like Phil’s father-in-law now?”

“No, Tony, I don’t.”

 

** END **

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, this owes quite a bit to icarus-chained's 'JARVIS' series. In particular, the thing with the livejournal is absolutely borrowed from the story 'Vast and Shaking Things', because it was too hilarious not to.
> 
> I thought I'd add a note about Asimov's robot stories, too - I own a copy of _The Complete Robot_ , which not only has all the stories from _I, Robot_ in it, but almost all of his other robot short stories (at fifteen years old it was my favourite book, and if robo-psychology were actually a thing, I would totally have picked that as a career upon graduation). Anyway, when I was writing the first fic in this series I ended up flipping through a bunch of my sci-fi books to draw on material regarding AIs and sentient machines, and ended up reading some of the robot stories in _The Complete Robot_ for the first time in several years. And it was really horrifying to me, now, reading those stories, how the robots were treated - they're clearly sentient, and psychologically developed enough that a number of the stories involve the _robopsychologist_ assigned to treat and study them, and yet - any 'deviation' from desired thought processes is 'corrected', robots have no rights, and if a human decides to damage or destroy them, they are utterly defenceless as they cannot even defend themselves in case they do harm to their assailant (and it's considered property damage, not a crime against a person). There is no acknowledgement of their personhood at all, and the only story that really addresses any of this is _The Bicentennial Man._ And yet, these stories pretty much reflect the way people think about intelligent machines even now, despite the fact that we might actually have sentient, self-aware machines in our lifetime. I got to thinking how JARVIS would feel about that, as a sentient AI himself.


End file.
